Play Is Medicine

When was the last time you really, truly played?

Not “played with your kids” or “played with your dog,” although those things are wonderful too. I mean played for you. For the sake of joy. For no productive reason at all.

When was the last time you belted out a song while mowing the yard, got on the swings at a playground, had sleepover-style giggles with your best friends, danced in the kitchen, played a game badly, or did something silly without worrying what the neighbors might think?

A lot of people cannot answer that question.

Somewhere along the way, many adults stop playing. We start measuring everything by usefulness. Hobbies become side hustles. Rest has to be earned. Creativity has to be monetized. Even fun starts to become something we schedule, optimize, photograph, and perform.

But play matters. And not just because it feels nice. Play is part of health.

I see this come up often in practice, especially with burned-out women, caregivers, helpers, healers, and people who are constantly holding everything together. They know how to work. They know how to show up. They know how to be responsible. But when I ask what they do for fun, there is often a long pause.

Many of us are not actually resting when we think we are resting. We collapse onto the couch, scroll for an hour, and call it decompressing. I do this too. Social media can easily become the thing I reach for when I am tired, overstimulated, or avoiding the fact that I need real rest. But the problem is that it often does not leave us feeling nourished. It passes time, but it does not always bring joy.

How many times have you been sitting down, scrolling your phone, being “unproductive,” and someone walks into the room so you immediately get up and start doing something? Or at least make yourself look busy?

That response says so much.

So many of us are uncomfortable being seen at rest. We feel like we have to justify stillness. We have to prove we are useful. We have to look like we are doing something.

But your body needs more than productivity. Your nervous system needs more than obligations. You need joy. You need laughter. You need play.

And yes, research supports this. Studies have shown that laughter can reduce cortisol, one of the body’s primary stress hormones. Research on adult playfulness also connects play with improved mental health, coping, creativity, and emotional flexibility. Even studies on shorter work weeks have found improvements in burnout, sleep, mental health, and overall well-being.

So maybe the problem is not that we need to push harder.

Maybe the problem is that we have forgotten how to play.

This does not mean every joyful thing has to look childish. Play can be whatever feels light, curious, freeing, or fun. But it does need to be separate from productivity.

Gardening is one of my happiest places, but honestly, it is not always play for me. Sometimes it becomes work. I start worrying about what needs weeded, what needs watered, whether the rabbits are going to eat everything, or whether I will have enough food to preserve for winter. I love it, but it is not always playful.

That is the distinction.

Play is not the thing you are trying to perfect. It is not the thing you are trying to sell. It is not the art you are making for an online shop, the workout you are tracking, or the hobby you are turning into another responsibility.

Play is the thing you do because it makes you feel alive.

One thing I find really beautiful is watching adults who are diagnosed as autistic later in life begin to unmask. Very often, as they become more comfortable with themselves, play comes back. So do special interests. So does comfort. So does the stuffed animal, the favorite texture, the weird hobby, the deep joy in something other people might not understand.

And honestly, I want that for everyone.

I want people to feel safe enough to be a little strange again. To sing in the yard. To get on the swings. To read the the spicy book outside in broad daylight. To have a picnic. To go swimming. To try disc golf badly. To wear the outfit without shame. To laugh too loudly. To do something that serves absolutely no purpose other than joy.

In Traditional Chinese Medicine, summer is the season of Fire. Fire is connected to joy, laughter, connection, expression, and the heart. But too much Fire without grounding can lead to burnout, overstimulation, restlessness, and exhaustion.

That is why play matters so much in this season.

Not performative fun. Not “look how great my summer is” fun. Real fun. Embodied fun. The kind that brings you back into your body and reminds you that you are allowed to enjoy your life.

So here is your gentle summer assignment: do one thing this week simply because it feels fun.

Not because it is useful.

Not because it counts as exercise.

Not because it makes money.

Not because it looks good online.

Just because it brings you joy.

Play a game. Blow bubbles (even better get a bubble pipe!). Pick wildflowers. Jump in the water. Sing loudly and off key. Paint badly and make a mess. Eat watermelon and spit the seeds. Go barefoot in the grass. Let yourself be a person, not just a producer.

Your health is not only built from supplements, appointments, labs, herbs, and routines.

It is also built from laughter.

From rest.

From connection.

From joy.

From the moments when you remember that healing does not always have to be hard.

If you want more ideas for reconnecting with joy, play, and seasonal wellness this summer, my free mini-course Bloom to Fruit is available now on the courses page of my website.

I love you, friends. I hope you are doing okay. And I hope you find a little more room to play.